Happy Holidays from Bajo Cero’s winter wonderland!

As you, dear reader (or dare I say fan), may know, we have been publishing a brand new song every two weeks during this autumn, and the autumny music video for our song “Hierro”. We have had a blast and are very happy with the outcome: with the songs and your positive feedback, appreciation and sharing.

Though the publishing pace will be a bit different after this great project, the work goes on and we now wish to share the new songs with you live at upcoming gigs.

Here’s a little christmas card for you, with lyrics for our last song of the year, “Camino”. Now you can sing along and even understand what the lyrics mean, thanks to the translation 😉

Love you all, see you next year!

xxoo: Anna

Deeper into the forest (new kid on the blog!)


Last year I invented myself a new hobby: Urban Deep Snow Cross Coyntry Sking, also known as UDSCCS. My hobby is all about going off road. The first time I took my Kuusisto-deep snow skis, that I had aquired for this very purpose, on a strole, was an interesting affair. I took off from home, put my furry hat on, skied a bit on the track and then just ventured straight into the abyss of the dark forest. The brightly lit ski track was crowded with heart beat monitor wearing, juice bag sucking top athletes, who wear sunglasses in the darkness. Thus, I felt hugely embarassed.

First few meters took me 10 minutes. Icy branches were scratching my bright blue overall and whatever skin that was still visible from under my hat. The skis both wanted to go to their own sides of tree roots sticking out of the snow. I sighed, puffed and groaned. I felt almost the same kind of helplessness as I did when I broke the string of my guitar back in 1997 on my first band’s secong gig. Time stood still.

The moment passed and I managed to get deeper into the forest. The skis started to find common ground. My head found a rythm for avoiding the branches, the trees were further apart from each other. The yellow artificial lights didn’t push their halo to where I had gone. But I could see better. I got confidence in what I was doing and started to speed up. The exhilarating sence of freedom was so overwhelming that I could have skied so far into the forest that I couldn’t have found my way back. In the midst of this realisation I thought to myself: ”This is how things go in life too. If you have an idea or a vision you should go for it no matter how silly or embarassing it seems, because when you do, there is a reward in the end.” I made a spectacular entry back to the ski track and almost fell into a ditch. People gave me weird looks, but I didn’t care anymore.

This was all last winter. I hadn’t experienced anything alike until I got asked to play effects & start creating soundscapes for Bajo Cero. Picture this: A thin tall man crouching in the bushes wearing headphones and holding a microphone, banging barrels with a shovel, intensively rubbing an oar against a tree, stopping in the middle of his way to work to run after beatifully screaming crows. You might think that I’d finally lost my mind. However, I was just determined. Maybe also mad, but purpose driven and confident. And even more cofident I became as I learnt that this is just the kind of attitude that the creative people around me share these days.

I would love to take you all to that desolate, beautiful place that I was in on my ski trip. Unfortunately I couldn’t even take myself there as I don’t remember the location. What I can try to do though, is to communicate it among other experiences through music that I nowadays make with Bajo Cero.


Cabin fever

These last few years I’ve taken more and more a liking to spending time in the peacefulness of nature, at our summer cabin up north at Posio. Guess I’m not alone with that. The finnish Statistics Center says that we finns owned a total of 485 100 summer cabins in the year 2009. That’s alot for a small nation like us. I remember one gig trip with the boys, when we started talking about our summer places. For a while the exhausting trip turned into a warm and fuzzy moment as we talked about our favourite places.

For me the summer cabin has always represented a childhood sanctuary. A place that is always the same with its still landscape and all its familiar things. There are also some rituals that come with being at the cabin. As you arrive,  silently (or out loud) greet the lake and then go unpack your things inside (where everything is like you left it last summer). You drink a certain tea (tropical fruit) and eat cream crackers and always read the same old Donald Ducks that you read as a kid. And you never go there in the winter. Maybe the whole place only exists in the summer, or maybe in the winter it would just be all wrong… That’s why they call it the summer cabin.

Last year Mikko’s parents bought a cabin of their own. It was weird for me to think that cabins can be bought. That they don’t just exist and be with you from your childhood. At first I was a little bit apprehensive about the whole place, even though (or maybe just because) it’s situated on the shores of the same lake Kitka as our own family cabin. Would this new place be a rival for my beloved summer house? Or would it just feel like a rental place with no history of its own?

Actually, it has been fun to watch one family build up their own sanctuary, to renovate and improve the place and make it their own. It’s also fun to think that you have been a part of that little moment in that cabins life. Maybe some day you’ll get to tell your children that you have helped to make the place as it is now. That it always wasn’t the same.

Now I see the same lake from another angle. Now I’ll also get to see it covered with ice and snow, as no longer Kitka is just a summer lake. The new cabin is situated a lot nearer to a road and thus is more approachable during the winter. That’s a good thing as just this weekend I get to go there, to the winter lake. It will be all covered with snow and silent and peaceful.


A place to stay (Fitting the mold part III)

I don’t know how long I will continue to write about the mold. I just encounter situations, even more often now than ever before, where I feel the mold sucking in. I have done almost everything in the mold checklist (if you don’t remember what it is, refer to my earlier writings) in my life. God forbid the situations that I have done against the mold, I have had it big time.

Now I have done the ultimate mold action by buying an apartment. It seems reasonable, as all actions that are on the mold, because it is cheaper than renting an apartment of the same size to fit in my family. Now I am renovating the place. First time in my life I use my carpentry skills to do something for myself. Normally I have lost my mind doing that for others, now I can go insane with my project, with my money, wait, not my money, bank’s money. Thou shall never forget that fact. The mold tries to make you believe that you own something. People with gray hair own something. They have paid their mortgage.

It is funny how I get acceptance nods from strangers’ heads when I tell them what I have done. I passed one more checking point in my asphalted way. It seems that the more you pass thru the checking points the closer to the checkered flag you will be with gray hair.